


Red

by orphan_account



Category: Assasin's Creed - Fandom, Evie Frye - Fandom, Games - Fandom, Jacob Frye - Fandom, Ubisoft, frye twins - Fandom, henry - Fandom, ps4 - Fandom, rpg games, the rooks - Fandom
Genre: Evie frye - Freeform, F/M, Frye Twins, Henry - Freeform, Henry Green - Freeform, Jacob Frye - Freeform, London, Syndicate, Ubisoft - Freeform, assasin's creed, assasin's creed syndicate - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10930995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You and Jacob Frye were lovers, but it had all ended once he disappeared to London and you were left in Crawley. Few years later, your husband, Jason, and you, had tripled both of your wealth and made a name for yourselves in the underground world of London. You thought you were over him, what you both had in the past, until one night.





	1. Chapter 1

You take a swig of your wine, feeling it burn your throat as you lean against the marble railing of the balcony, enjoying the night air and settling the glass of wine to the side. You close your eyes, wondering if this peacefulness would last. The stars, shining down on you, the feeling of the cold marble against your skin, giving you goosebumps as your beautiful garden was displaying its grandeur for you. Nothing could be better than this, you thought, standing in the edge of the balcony from your bedroom, overlooking a garden that would rival the one at Versailles. 

Suddenly, the sound of a loud thump, followed by a heavy breathing stopped your thoughts. Pretending it doesn’t exist, you took another swig of the wine, placed it down on top of the railing and continue to stare into the distance, knowing who it was that was creeping up on you. You could feel him shaking his head in exasperation as he moved closer but you held your ground. 

“I know you could hear me, Red.” he said, as you heard him moving to your side, eyeing your glass of wine. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge you.” you replied. 

“You did. Your mind might not be, but I know your body does. The way you tensed, I like how I still could affect you that way.” Jacob pointed out, grabbing your glass of wine and finished it in three gulps as if he was thirsty from all that sneaking around. 

“Or maybe I just have a blade hidden underneath this dress that I couldn’t wait to use it on certain someone.” you retorted, turning to face him, with one still leaning against the railing. 

There was a mischievous glint in the corner of his eyes as he stared back at you, as if challenging you to show your hiding spot, right here, right now. You narrowed your eyes at him, mad at the fact that he hadn’t changed at all, even more mad that your mind and body still remembered him. He twisted his head to the side, in a challenging manner, and say, “Show me then.”

The image suddenly came into your mind. Of him pulling you closer, his arm circling protectively around your waist…no. You shake your head, getting rid of the image, storing it in the deepest darkest part of your brain before moving a few feet away from him and ask, “What are you doing here anyway? You must’ve heard that Jason’s away.”

“I need you to help me with something.”

“If it involves something sexual, there’s a brothel nearby to satisfy your ‘desires’.” you replied, thinking about taking another sip of your wine to calm your anger but you remembered how he head finished it, and getting more angry at the thought. 

“Aaww, are you and your husband finally patching things up?” he mocked, folding his hands across his chest, as you couldn’t help your eyes drifting towards that direction, remembering how you loved to run your hands all over that broad chest…no. You shook your head out of that thought again, and reply, “Jason and I are fine, thanks for asking. Look, I think you should leave before he gets back.” 

You turn towards the direction of your bedroom, feeling more tired than before, abandoning the empty wine glass on the railing between you and Jacob. He could keep that glass as a souvenir for all I care, you thought, as you made your way towards your sanctuary. But before you could get a foot inside, Jacob caught your arm, pulled it and twisting you into his arms so fast your hand landed on his chest. 

He had one arm wrapped around your waist, while the other was still gripping the crook of your arm. He was staring down at you like he couldn’t believe that you were right in front of him. You looked up at him, wondering the same thing. There were no lights, nothing but the moon and the stars that shined. If only, he thought, if only I could lean in closer. 

His eyes are drifting towards your lips, his beautiful blue eyes that matched the night sky. He moved closer, closer to the point your heads touch and you could smell the wine, with a mixture of nature off of him, as if he was spending the whole day outside. He slowly leaned closer, the tips of your noses touching, yet his lips were hovering yours, as if he was unsure if he should just give in to his temptation and do it. 

He looked at you, trying to read off of your emotions. How you were at war with yourself, to succumb to him, or to keep the promise to Jason…you didn’t know. You didn’t expect it would be this hard, as he lets you go, making the decision for you. 

You could see him, his regret radiating off of him for a few seconds before he concealed it with his usual annoying sarcastic self. You saw the side of him, the vulnerable side of him, that he only showed it to a few individuals, even for a few seconds. You were glad that the Jacob you knew were still there. 

“I’m sorry.” he apologised, taking you by surprise, yet again. 

“Me too. I, uh, why are you here, Jake? And please, no sarcasm this time.”

“I need your help. Actually, I need both of your help.” he said.

“Both of…”

“You and your husband’s. I need to look for my sister, I think she might be in trouble.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story may not be historically accurate, nor will it be really accurate to the plot in the game or the novel.

“Tilde?” a familiar voice called out from the darkness of your bedroom. You turned back, jumping further away from Jacob like a criminal being caught in the act. Even though you were technically doing nothing wrong. 

“Jason? You’re back early.” you replied, staring at your husband as he steps into the light, looking tired, as if he had not slept for a week. His hair was disheveled, as if he spent most of his time outside, dusts were covering his dark blue jacket and you walked up to him, brushing it off like a dutiful wife. 

You could feel him tensing under your touch, as he kept his eyes on Jacob, as if he could will him to disappear into thin air. Jacob cleared his throat and extends his hand, “I’m Jacob, your wife’s an old friend of mine.”

Instead of shaking his hand, Jason just stared at the extended hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, the same spot where Jacob was holding a few minutes ago. Though the feeling was different. With Jacob, you were entranced,momentarily taken to another world, but with Jason, there was nothing but warmth. 

“I’m aware of who you are. But what is a gang leader doing at my house?” Jason asked, still keeping his glare at Jacob, who’s eyes drifted to his arm, before glaring back at your husband. 

“As I’ve mentioned to your wife, I need your help to find my sister and her fiancé.”

“Evie’s missing? I thought she went to India a few months ago.”

“It had almost been a year since I’ve last heard from her. I tried tracking them down there, but no one had heard from them. Their ship arrived, but they didn’t.” 

“Why come looking for us? You have enough resources to look for her. Your…society would find her soon enough.” Jason replied, releasing his arm and grab your hand, pulling you towards the bedroom but you held your ground. He turns back at you, half-shocked, half-confused at your action. 

“I’m going to help him.” you proclaimed, as he flashes you a look that asks ‘why?’, to which you reply, “Evie’s a great friend of mine, ever since we were children.”

“And put yourself in danger? In your condition? Hell no.” Jason said, so you wrenched his hand away in anger, telling him, “I don’t need your permission.”

Jason looks at you as if you’ve betrayed him, and though the guilt was gnawing at you, you couldn’t help but stand your ground. You truly didn’t need his permission. He may be your husband, but he is not your master. Jason turns to Jacob, pointing a finger at him as he threaten, “You better keep her out of danger. If I find out she…I’ll kill you in the worst way possible.” 

Instead of looking scared like most men do, Jacob merely raised an eyebrow at his threat. Her husband clearly had some nerve, he thought, as Jason walk back inside before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek and whispered something into her ear that earns her nod. She watches him leave, and only when he is out of their sight, did she move to close the balcony doors, giving them the privacy. 

“You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked playfully, knowing full well that it was her bedroom inside. 

“I don’t think it’s rather appropriate for you to be in my bedroom with my husband in the same roof. Servants will talk.” you replied. It was a lame excuse, but you couldn’t be inside a room with him with a four-poster bed inside. You’re strong, but not that strong, especially when it comes to the elusive Jacob Frye. “Anyway, did you bring the letters Evie sent you last?” you asked, willing yourself to pretend what had happened between the both of you had no effect on you. You wonder if Jason saw all that, hoping he didn’t. This is a beginning of a huge mess, you thought, as you lean against the railing, like how Jacob first found you. 

“I didn’t think you’d agree, after all we’ve been through. I thought you would’ve threw a few punches at me. I didn’t wanna risk losing those letters.” he confessed, standing behind you, watching you watching the scenery. 

It’s true, you thought. You should’ve screamed at him, shouted at him, hit or kick him, but all rationality vanished the moment you saw him. You even nearly succumbed to the temptation, if he hadn’t stopped himself. You thanked all the stars above that he did, for if not, Jason would’ve…no. You cleared your thoughts of that ever happening. You wouldn’t lose yourself that way again. Not anymore. 

“What did he meant, by ‘your condition’?” Jacob asked, moving next to you, staring at you as you stared into the distance, anywhere but him. 

“Nothing. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow? In the train?” 

“Red, tell me. Are you okay? Are you sick?” Jacob pestered some more, concern radiating off of his face. 

“I’m fine, Jacob. Really, it’s none of your concern. We’ll talk, tomorrow. At your train in Waterloo Station, noon.” you replied, dismissing as you make your way back inside, away from him. But he stopped you by calling out your nickname, the same nickname that still caused you to flinch at the avalanche of memories in your head. “Red.”, he called out. 

“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that ever again, please.” you spat out, barely hiding the slight tremor in your voice. Then you turn to him, staring at you with a mix of guilt and regret as you tell him, “My given name is Matilda. What we had was a long time ago. We’ve grown up. So please, can we just be civil until we find your sister and her fiancé?”

Instead of acting like how Jacob would’ve always done, which is to hit back with some sarcastic remark, he did something out of the ordinary. He stayed silent and nodded at you. You stared at him, in shock, with a slight disappointment that he wasn’t fighting you. But you pushed that slight disappointment down and continued to stare at him as he bid you farewell and climbs up to your roof. You keep your eyes on him, keeping the image of him in your memory as you feel the distance increase between the both of you, before finally entering your bedroom, locking the balcony doors tight behind you and bask in the comforting darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

You stared at your reflection, how pale your skin is starting to be, how your hair was longer and darker, as if spending all those time inside enhanced the shade of black. Maybe it was because your skin was starting to lack a healthy tan. But it was something you care the least. Your looks had never really mattered much to you, unless it was for political or tactical reasons. 

An actress, that’s what you’ve been all your life, playing a role of a dutiful wife in public, a housewife, one of the most charming members of the society. Nights of hiding your bloody hands under the silk white opera gloves because you had no time to clean up after a rough day, making sure your husband was equally presentable on the face of society. It was all just for show. You need Jason, as much as he needs you. 

Last night was no different, you thought. Him, circling his arm around your waist, like a protective, loving husband, protecting his wife from an intruder. He was as much of a fraud as she was. Yet somehow Jacob saw it through their act. 

Your maid picks up the dark blue hat from the table but you wave it away, telling her, “No, not today, Elise. You can leave now, and make sure to prepare the carriage.”

“Yes ma’am.” she replied, before rushing out of the room. Elise had always hated her mistress’s bedroom. It gave her the chills every time she entered. She was only thankful that her mistress had dismissed her earlier than she thought, as she went and do what she was told. 

You pulled your cloak tighter against your chest, hoping that it would protect you from what was about to come, whatever it is. And as you were about to get up, the doors to your bedroom clicked open to reveal your husband, looking like his usual self, with his black jacket and black shirt. He looked like the grim reaper himself. 

“You’re going to see him, aren’t you?” he asked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I am helping him after all. Why?” you replied, walking towards him, crossing your arms across your chest as you stared him down. He didn’t flinch, why would he? He knows you won’t hurt him, he knows you both need each other. 

“It’s just that you look so much like yourself. Something I hadn’t seen for awhile, and all for him.” he commented, twirling the edges of your hair with his fingers, jealousy tinged on the tone of his voice. 

“I have to leave.” you dismissed him, putting his wavering hand away and walk towards the door, only to stop as your fingers touch the doorknobs as he called for you, “Tilde.”

“What, Mr.Fox?” you replied, turning to him, annoyed. 

He flashed one of his charming smile that would melt any other ladies, but not her. She seemed to be immune to his charms, as it was not that, that had attracted her to him in the first place. It was his pain. She fought a smile at the memory before she heard him reply, “My dear wife, you didn’t tell him, did you?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re carrying my child.”

“Why would I tell him that? He doesn’t have to know.”

“Oh you know, how would your ex-lover feel, if you had moved on to another man while he was still pining after you?”

“We were children. And I don’t know, nor care how you found that out.” you sighed in exasperation, tired of him finding out about everything of your old life, and continue, “I’m leaving.”

“You should invite him to dinner, sometime. I might change my mind when it comes to helping out one of my wife’s old lovers. Who knows, we might even compare notes.” he wondered out loud and you had all the reason to slap him then and there but you didn’t. You never do. You clenched both your hands into fists, before actually walking out of the room, through the estate, the foyer, and into the carriage waiting for you. 

The Waterloo Station is as busy as any day, with people shouting left and right, families huddling close together, trying to navigate their way through the station. Then there were some men and women, who fanned themselves with their first-class tickets, dressed in the most expensive gowns one would ever see, with a mountain of suitcases trailing behind them as they carefully climbed abroad the train as if they owned it. You shook your head at the sight, appalled at how these kinds of people exist. 

You made your way to the platform on the edge, the one with less people, but with more of men and women, dressed in green. You were about to walk towards the platform, until you were stopped by a man wearing a black rugged-looking top hat, with a burgeoning belly, covered in dirty green clothing. He looked up at you, glaring, as the two men trailing behind you that Jason must’ve sent was about to advance on you, but you held up your hand to them, to stop them from stepping into a problem you could handle yourself. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the green man asked, jutting out his chin.

“I’m here to see your boss, Jacob Frye.” you explained, in the most innocent way possible, with a smile. 

“Who are you to come here bargin’ in demandin’ for our boss?!” he shouted at your face, to the point his disgusting spit landed on your cheek. You gritted your teeth in anger, trying as hard as you can to push it down and retorting to fear instead. And so, you pulled down your hood to reveal yourself, making yourself look more vulnerable and fearful as you told the green man, “I’m Matilda, Matilda Marlowe.”, opting for your maiden name. 

“Matilda Marlowe? A name I haven’t heard in the longest time.” Jacob, that jackass, exclaimed, jumping down from one of the doors of the train and clapped the short green man on the back, “Thanks, Briggie, but she’s a friend of mine.”

“Sorry, Boss.” Briggie said, flashing me a threatening look before moving away, as Jacob grabbed my arm as if he owned it, lacing it around his and pulled me into the train. I didn’t dare sneak a glance at the men Jason sent, knowing full well that Jason wouldn’t be happy about this. Territorial male bullshit, you cursed, as you climbed in. 

And the feeling that hit you as you took in the surroundings, was the one feeling that surprised you: amazement. You had never thought that a train would look this comfortable, this amazing, this…smart. Jason had always preferred all underground business to be dealt with in abandoned warehouses, and you hated it. There were always rats, it smelled bad, not to mention the dusts. And the hassle as well, when one needs to rush back and forth. A train, however, is much more suitable. You made a mental note to propose this idea to your husband tonight, as you took a seat on one of the couches, while Jacob handed you the old letters. 

“These are all that’s left of her, and Henry.” Jacob said, watching you, as you flip through the envelopes, taking in the dates. 

You laid it down next to you and stared up at him. You had rarely see him without a hat or a hood and for the first time in really long time, seeing his hair in a disheveled mess, made you want to get up a brush your fingers through it. But you didn’t, of course not. Instead, you asked him the one question he was dreading, “Are you sure Evie wants to be found?”

“It doesn’t make sense, Re-…Tilde. If she doesn’t want to be found, she would’ve added a ‘Please don’t find me, dear brother’ on one of these envelopes.”

You picked the pile of letters up again, reading through the dates in the envelope, checking the slight difference of Evie’s penmanship once again, before asking him, “And are you sure the letters were not forged?”


	4. Chapter 4

Jacob stared at you as if you had somehow grown another head, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief as he scoffed. He put his hat on, telling you, “Of course, I had Charles Darwin checked it.”

“Well he clearly made a mistake, because some of these letters were forged, presumably the ones with the later dates.” you explained, handing what you believed the forged ones to be to him. He scoffed once more, as he takes a clearer look at Evie’s penmanship. 

“It still looks the same to me.” he shrugged as you sighed and hand one of the real ones to him, explaining, “Look at the real one, Evie has a slight curve on her ‘R’s, while this one was straight.”, pointing at the fake one, then continued, “This was also written with a left hand. Evie’s right-handed.”

“That old bastard.” he cursed under his breath, and you had to fight a smile at his reaction. How could a pair of twins be so different? Evie was the calculative, strategic one, ever since they were growing up, while Jacob, he was more of the one who always got himself into trouble with his irrational behaviour. 

He turned to you, seeing you smile perhaps for the first time in a very long time. He wondered what had gone through your mind, what had caused you to smile. Time tend to stop whenever his eyes wander to the curve of your lips, the dimples, how he used to poke it with his finger, used to place his lips on it, he itched to do just that. He held up his index finger, reaching towards it but stopped abruptly, putting his hand down when he saw you looking at him, with one of your eyebrows raised, wondering what he was doing, with his index finger raised up like that.

“What are you doing?” you voiced your thoughts, frowning, the dimple he was staring at vanishing. Had he gone mad?

“Nothing.” he replied, as his went back to the letters, saying, “I’ll go and have these checked again. Find out the forger.”

You shook your head from side to side, disagreeing as you took the letters from his hands, telling him, “I’m gonna keep these. I think I have a better chance in looking for the forger.”

He wrenched those letters from your hands, arguing, “Uh-uh. I don’t think so. Can’t let you do that, she’s my sister.”

“Well she’s like a sister to me!” you argued, staring at those letters, trying to reach for it but he stopped you by gripping your wrist with his other hand. 

“We’ll do it together.” he suggested, the hardness of his voice, gone, as he stared at you, then at the wrist he was gripping, your pulse quickening under his grip. He must’ve felt it, because he pulled you closer, dropping the letters on the ground, as his other hand gripped the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his. 

You froze, then melted under his hold all at once, like a ragged puppet. All the years of pent-up anger and frustration at him, all were exposed as the kiss turned from demanding to hungry. He pulled you closer, as if it was possible, with your bodies already against each other. His grip drifted away from your wrist, sliding towards your abdomen, your waist, then your back. Just as it was about to venture upwards, you put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. 

It took both of you a few seconds to regain your bearings, not daring to meet each other’s eyes. It wasn’t until he moved to pick the letters from the ground, sprawled between the both of you, that you finally addressed the elephant in the room, “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Here” he said, handing you two of the letters. One was what presumed to be the real, while the other was fake. You stared at it in confusion, asking, “Are you sure?” He seemed to be so inclined to hold on to these earlier. 

He got up, no longer kneeling, as you took the letters from his hand, not bothering to reply your question as he said, “I have somewhere I need to be. We’ll talk again, soon.” 

You nodded, still at lost for words, holding the letters that seemed to be burning a hole through your hands. You stuffed it inside the pockets of your dress, watching him climb out of the train and disappear. 

As you made your way out of the train, still dazed and confused, two of your men approached you, the same men that Jason had sent, in case the Rooks decided to gang up on you. Though you didn’t think it would be likely, especially with the amount of respect they have for their leader, and how the leader had just…no. No. That never happened. It was just a figment of your imagination, you thought to yourself. You had to forget it ever happened. A kiss was nothing, it meant nothing. Jason does not have to know. 

You looked up to see the two men still staring at you, with some of the Rooks eyeing the three of you with contempt. As if their ragged clothing, their lives, are way above you. They must not know who you really are, then. Because you were used to people like them, cowering beneath you, begging for forgiveness. And after what you’ve been through with Jacob, you wished to do just that. To find the relief you feel, whenever they begged for their worthless lives, whenever they abandoned their pride, their dignity, their humanity and begged like a real, worthless animal. 

“Ma’am?” one of them asked, worry flashed in their eyes. You had never looked, nor felt, so lost in your life and all because of a meaningless kiss. 

“I’m fine. Take me home, please.” you said, as they ushered you out of the Station and into the carriage. 

You used to marvel at the beauty and the vibrancy of the city. How awed you were, when you first arrived with Jason, with your arm wrapped around his, as both of you enjoyed the fresh air, walking along Hyde Park. How you used to see him as your saviour, as someone who rescued you from the life you had in Crawley. Life was different then. So, so much different.


	5. Chapter 5

“Where are they?” Jason asked, taking the towel from one of his men’s hands, wiping the blood off of his hands. The blood of the bloody fool sitting in front of him. 

It looked like the man was about to drift away again, so Jason nodded to the men standing behind him with the bucket of cold water, signaling them to pour it as he took a few steps back, not wanting to get wet. And when the water hit the man, he was screaming and shouting, finally fully conscious, just as Jason had intended him to be. If this idiot won’t answer soon, he’d make sure the idiot would be feeling the pain all over again for taking so much of his time just to answer one simple fucking question, which he repeated, “Where, are, they?”

“Who do you mean? I don’t know who you’re asking for. I’m just a simple man, with a simple job.” the man ranted, his voice trembling both with fear and because of the freezing water. 

Jason cocked his head to the side. He was annoyed, now he was just plain furious. He didn’t even bother asking this idiot any more questions. He was either telling the truth, or he was really extremely loyal to his masters. He guessed it must be the former, because if it was the latter, the idiot would’ve gave him the information he need. Jason assess the injuries he inflicted, his masterpiece, as the man was sagging on the wooden chair, his hands and legs tied up, bruises all over his body. His fingers were mostly detached, along with his toes, which were now littered around the floor, like fallen leaves. 

At the thought of fallen leaves, his mind had drifted to his wife, and he could feel his temper slightly cooled. She was an amazingly strong woman, his wife. He remembered walking with her along Hyde Park, enjoying the beautiful sight of the golden fallen leaves. How her eyes were shinning as she picked a bunch of those leaves and threw it at his face. He smiled a little at the memory, before bringing himself back to reality. 

He fished out the black leather gloves from his pocket, specifically for this purpose, and put them on. Once it was on, he bent down and picked up one of the idiot’s toes, the biggest one and most disgusting one he could fine. The man was already squirming on his seat, begging him to stop, desperate to escape. The man was practically vibrating with fear on his seat, to the point where two of his men had to hold him down as Jason shoved the toe into his mouth, pushing it down his throat. 

The man had tears flowing down his cheek, as his toe was being forced down on him. He was screaming, as if the louder he screamed, the force of his voice would force to the toe back up, though it was highly unlikely. This was it, he thought, he was going to die here, under the hands of these devils. He closed his eyes, searching for the peace people have in the brink of death, but he found none, as he felt a gloved hand on his jaw, forcing him to look up and locking his mouth shut. He tried squirming some more, but it didn’t work. These men, they were too strong. 

Jason stared at the idiot as he fought hard, trying not to swallow his broken toe. He would’ve survived, but he would not be sane, ever again. The thought of this idiot breathing sent sparks of anger in his eyes. Jason tightened his grip and tipped his head higher back. He struggled some more, as Jason forced it down. 

He could tell when the toe finally went down his throat as the idiot had let out choking noises. Once he was satisfied that his man would be struggling, he let the idiot go, moving as far away from his victim as possible, turning away and walking out of the door, muttering a ‘let him die slow’ to his men. He yearned to get out of this abandoned factory. 

He took out his glove, handing it to his right-hand man, while the man was briefing him on the situation. Jason merely nodded at each sentence mindlessly, his mind drifting to his wife, to home. 

“Jason.” his right-hand man called out as Jason was buttoning his black cape and pulling on his hood. 

“What is it?” he replied, climbing onto his horse, grabbing the reins. 

“It’s your wife and that man, Frye.”

“They’re meeting today. And there might some things you need to ask for your wife. She seemed pretty shaken, according to my men.” he said, not wanting to think about that pompous bastard, nor of their meeting. He had already hated the fact that the asshole had successfully broken into their home, now he had to endure the thought of his wife working with that cock shit.

Jason didn’t even bother to respond, as he clicked his heels and raced back home. If he had the ability to sprout flames out of anger, the horse would be on fire by now. He tightened the grip on his reins and focused on going back home to his wife, even though he was not looking forward for what was awaiting them both.


	6. Chapter 6

You stared at the garden, leaning against the balcony, exactly at the same spot as that night. The first night when you first saw Jacob after a long time. You closed your eyes, trying to block the thought of him away, focusing instead on the cool night breeze, brushing through your skin. You pulled your white robe tighter on you, trying to keep warm. 

The same familiar footsteps started to approach you from behind and you knew who it was. The way your heart started to beat faster in anticipation, the sudden goosebumps on your skin. You didn’t even bother looking back to see if you were right, as his scent fills your nostrils. You bent your head, placing your forehead gently on your forearm as if you were hiding from him. 

“Red…” Jacob started, staring at her, who was having her head down as if she was avoiding him. 

“Please, I told you not to call me that.” you replied, unmoving. 

“You’re going to always be that girl to me, no matter what life you’re living.” he said, leaning right next to her, watching her. 

You faced him, finally bringing your head up and brought a hand on his cheek, feeling the familiar rough skin under your hand. You looked up at him, trying to memorise his face, knowing he would run away after everything was done. Though you were not sure yourself if you could go through with this. Maybe Jason was right, maybe you should just give up. But you had wished that he wasn’t. 

Deep down, you wanted to spend time with him. You wanted to look for Evie with him. You had dreamt of running away, of living the way the Frye twins had lived. To be trained how to fight, how to protect yourself, instead of being carted around society like a fertile cow with a pretty face. Jason had rescued you from all that after they had left you in Crawley. And just with the thought of Jason, you put your hand away from Jacob’s face, all the memories of finding them abandoning you crawled back into your mind. 

You fished your hand into the pocket of your white robe, pulled out Evie’s letters and hand them to Jacob with a piece of paper. Jacob stared down at the piece of paper. Written on it was the name of a man and an address. He looked at you, hoping that you aren’t doing what he thought you were going to do. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” you blurted, wanting to get this over with before Jason comes back. 

He stared at the letters, at the name, before holding it up, asking you, “Is this the forger you were talking about?”

“He’s the first person that came into my mind when I re-read your letters. The fake letters should be his handiwork.”

“What about you?”

“What about me? I told you, I can’t do this anymore, Jacob.” you said, looking up at him as tears are threatening to flow from the back of your eyes. “Go to the forger, he’ll give you the location of the man who paid him to forge the letters. If he doesn’t, just mention my married name.” 

You started to turn to walk away from him, but he held your wrist. You wanted to pull away from his grip but you can’t. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to control your emotions, committing the memory of the feel of his hand on your skin, before you tried to get him to release you. As you moved, he held on tighter, telling you, “What happened?”

At that question, you immediately turn to him, glaring. Your tears are no longer threatening to fall. They were dried up by your instant anger at his question. How dare he asked that?  
“Are you serious? I’m married, Jacob. I’m trying to keep my promise to my husband. You abandoned me! At least your sister had the audacity to send me a letter a few weeks later.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough.” you said, trying to wrench your hand away from him but his grip was too strong. 

“You agreed to help me find them.”

“I agreed to help you, I didn’t agree to find them with you. I’ve done my part, our deal’s over.” you explained, glaring at him, as he glared back. 

“Why are you doing this? You were eager to help earlier today. What changed?”

“Because we kissed! We fucking kissed, and I seemed to always lose my control with you!” you shouted, blinded by your rage. And soon as you realised what you said, you added, “I can’t do that to my husband.”

“Don’t pretend as if you really love him, Red. I know you.”

You shook your head, as what was rage for this man, turned to pity. “What do you know, Frye? You abandoned me years ago in Crawley.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t come to regret my decision.” he argued, desperate. 

“It doesn’t matter. You left. I would’ve forgiven you if you’ve told me your plans or at least send a letter, or come back. But you didn’t. So leave me and my family alone.” 

“‘Family’? Your family’s in Crawley. He’s not your family!” 

“He is. I’m carrying his child.” you confessed. And with those words, you felt the grip of his hand loosening. As his grip loosened, the hole in your chest seemed to grow bigger than it already was. It loosened to the point where your hand just dropped limply by your side. 

He stared at you, both shock and disappointment evident in his expression, before moving past you and jumping onto the roof. He took the same route as he did the night he first approached you. But you couldn’t look at him long, before you dropped on your knees and stared at the ground, trying to make sense at what had just happened. 

Jason was staring at his wife, who was on her knees, her skin as pale as the moon, dressed in a white robe and her white nightgown underneath that made her looked like an angel. The sight of you reminded him of the time when he first found you, after you had found out that your family had tried to sell you away to another family, again. His hand was clutching your bedpost so hard, the wood creaked under pressure. His mind was at war, fighting on to whether he should walk up to you or to leave you that way. 

The conversation they had, had confirmed his suspicions, he thought. They both still had feelings for each other. If his wife hadn’t, she wouldn’t be this way. With the thought in mind, he let go of the bedpost and walked out of your room, not even hesitating to turn back.


	7. Chapter 7

You knew they were there. You couldn’t see clearly where they were, but you knew they were there, watching you as you knelt on the ground, staring into nothingness. It may seemed like you were hypnotised, as your eyes were empty. It is a coping mechanism when things like these happened. You just feel your soul detaching from your body, letting it float adrift as your mind tried its best to repair the damage inside. 

You closed your eyes, trying to will yourself to stop feeling everything. To be numb from the inside and out. You tried concentrating on the wind as it blows through your soul, chilling your cold heart. You breathed in and out, letting the wind carry the memories of what had happened with Jacob away. 

Jacob watched you from the roof, both of his feet refusing to move from the spot. How your robe were sprawled against the marbled floors, making it look like soft white petals of a delicate flower. He bent down, to the point his knees were folded right in front of him, as he watched you from above like a coward. Not daring to move to you, yet unable to move away. Sometimes he had wondered what would happen if he had not gone away to London and abandoned you in Crawley like he did. 

What would happen, if he had taken you with him? Though you had no idea of the existence of the Assassins at the time, nor were you trained, there was hope that you might actually share this life with him. Just like his parents were, he thought. It would’ve been more epic. Both you and Jacob would’ve drove Evie insane, instead of seeing you broken like this. ‘What had happened to you, Red?’ Jacob thought. 

You were so full of life, so full of happiness and laughter. Had Jason destroyed you? Had the life you chose took what was left of that happiness? Had him, and his sister leaving caused this? He didn’t want to know, though the guilt for the last thought was there. He should’ve brought you here with him, but he was too carried away with the excitement, and he had figured that it was much more sensible for someone like you, a lady coming from a respectable family background, to stay in Crawley, where it was safe. Some part of him had hoped that you would find happiness with someone else, probably married with a bunch of children by now, still living in Crawley.

Movement caught his eye, jolting it away from his thoughts as his full attention rested solely on you. You were getting up, your hand slowly tracing your lower abdomen, feeling the life growing inside, wondering what would happen to your life when the baby comes. You looked up, staring at the sky but a small figure caught your eye. You squinted at it, moving closer, but it was gone, like an illusion. 

‘I have gone mad.’ you muttered to yourself, as you made your way back to your bedroom, clicking the door shut behind you as you leaned your head back against the door. 

Taking deep breaths, you decided to head downstairs and get a cup of warm milk in the kitchen by yourself, not wanting to wake the maids or the cook. As you were making your way to the stairs, passing through the hallway, the door to the library was open with a lantern still shining inside. Worried that it would somehow cause a fire, you walked inside, ready to scold Jason at being so careless but your heart nearly stopped at the sight before you. 

The secret door behind the bookshelf was ajar, something Jason had never done before. Hell, something both of you had never done before. No one, except for the dead architect, knew that this part of the house exist. Not even Jason’s right-hand man. It was a secret sanctuary for the both of you, a sanctuary where you could unleash both of your inner demons towards whoever ended up inside. 

The sound of a whip slapping the ground, followed by a familiar scream made you run. One thing for sure, Jason had not told you that he was bringing someone over. He would always bring the victims from a secret door hidden in the bushes in the garden. This was another one of the entrances to their ‘sanctuary’. 

You rushed through the entrance and nearly collapsed at the sight. You didn’t think this would happen, hell, you didn’t think that Jason would be capable to do such thing. Because hunching above the heavily-injured Evie, was Jason, holding the whip. 

And next to bloodied Evie, who was coughing up blood, was Henry, his head lying on her lap, unconscious. As if sensing your presence, Evie looked up, her eyes filled with hatred, as she called out, “T-Tilly?”


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a week since it all happened. You are sitting in the living room, staring out at the window into the busy London street. Everyone was busy, bustling all around the street, yelling and arguing at the same time, going on with their lives. You look down to the book on your lap, a book you’ve given up reading a few minutes ago after the sound of the busy streets distracted you. 

“Matilda.” Jacob said, calling for your attention as he stands by the fireplace, his hands folded across his chest, wearing his newspaper-boy hat, instead of his usual top hat. The eye-bags under his eyes are more visible, he looks like he had aged in a week. You wouldn’t blame him, with what you both had gone through that night. 

“Is she awake?” you asked, to which he nodded in reply. This was how your conversations had been ever since you ran away. The things you both conversed about was just of Evie and Henry’s wellbeing, and it only involve a few sentences. 

As you follow Jacob through the hallway, with the old wooden floors creaking beneath your feet, you thought of what had happened that night. How you immediately unchained Evie and Henry, how Jacob had suddenly came barging in, surprising both Jason and you. How Jacob was on the verge of killing Jason, until you stopped him by reminding him of his sister and her fiancee. 

You had made the guards prepare the carriage, where Jacob had carried Evie and Henry inside, while you locked the doors to the ‘sanctuary’, locking your unconscious injured husband inside. Jacob had taken the reins of the carriage when you climbed inside, keeping an eye on Evie and Henry as he sped out of the estate and into an old abandoned house, where he claimed as a ‘safe-house’ somewhere in Lambeth. 

Jacob knocks on the door twice, despite it being open. You stand behind him, unsure of what to say, or how to approach her. You and Evie used to be thick as thieves when you both were little. She was the one who kept in touch with you through letters every month after they left. She was the one who had informed you of them leaving Crawley a few weeks later. And the thought of what your husband did to her, after all the kindness she had shown you, ignite the guilt that had been there ever since that night. 

“Tilde’s here.” Jacob said, moving away from you, claiming that he is going to check up on Henry on the other room. 

You take a step forward, standing awkwardly at the doorway, unsure of whether to walk up to her and apologise or wait for her to give you the permission to enter. You are about to open your mouth to speak, but she cut you off by saying, “Did you know?”

“Didn’t Jacob tell you?”

“He wouldn’t speak of you. All I know is that you are married to him. But did you know what that monster did? The truth.” she said. Despite her injuries, there’s still that strength in her voice. Relief washes over you as you realise that Jason had not tortured her beyond repair. 

“Well?” she inquired. 

“No, no I didn’t.” you confessed, carefully approaching the bed as if Evie would somehow produce a dagger and kill you. 

“We were on a ship, halfway to our destination before our ship was attacked. Most of the people abroad died, including women and children. Some were captured. Henry and I fought, but he was too strong.” Evie explained, staring at her hands that are still filled with bruises, her back slouching against the headboard of the bed. You’ve never seen her look this fragile with a white nightgown and her dark brown hair down. She has this elegance in her. If she wasn’t a part of the organisation, a long line of suitors would’ve gone for her hand in marriage.   
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, across from Evie and face her, asking, “What about the letters?”

“Jacob told me some of the letters were forged. Apparently, the real ones that I had sent him were never received. Your husband had possessed it and had a forger forged fake ones to ensure Jacob that nothing was wrong.”

“You were asking for help.” 

“I was.”

“So the night when Jacob came looking for my help, you were already kidnapped?”

“Yes, but we managed to escape that night. Though we weren’t as lucky, as we were caught soon after and one of the men who had helped us was dead.”

“What about the other? And why did Jason wanted you both so bad?” you asked, getting more confused than ever. It didn’t make sense. 

“He wanted the Rooks and to destroy my brother.”

“Jason wanted to torture you both for the whereabouts of Jacob. And once that was done, he would left you both for dead.” you finished the explanation for her. Evie nodded at your statement, before adding, “No matter how you both delude yourselves into thinking that you had control over London, you are mistaken. The Rooks still have full control over London, and they will continue to do so.”

You ignore the painful stabbing in your chest as she said that. The person you considered as the sister you never had as a little girl. Gone were the kindness, the caring and the warmth. It is replaced instead, by this coldness. You had never felt more conflicted. A part of you wanted to side with your husband, despite the terrible thing he did, but another, the part where the girl from Crawley still lives inside, wanted nothing more than to apologise and go back to how you all were. 

“Did Jacob know all this?” you asked, unsure of whether you want to know the answer. 

“I told him everything.” she replied, with a satisfied glint at the edge of her eye. 

That’s it, you couldn’t take this anymore. You got up, walking towards the door when you were suddenly stopped by what she said next, “I know you both still had feelings for each other, I was okay with that back then. But don't think that my brother will want touch you anytime soon.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jacob was standing in the hallway as soon as you step out of Evie’s room. It can be seen that you both are exhausted, smuggling a physician that’s loyal to the Rooks back and forth, hiding the tracks from Jason’s men, avoiding each other. Now that everything seemed to be progressing, with Evie finally regaining her consciousness and showing signs of recovery, along with Henry, the time to confront both of your demons are here. The time you both are dreading. 

You didn’t know how long you were both standing there, staring at each other, with the door to Evie’s room closed behind you. The intensity of his gaze is searing its way into your soul, tearing the impenetrable walls you’ve built all these years. 

“What happened to you, Matilda?” he asked, using your full name instead of the nickname he used to give you. A nickname that came from your childhood that was spent living next to the Frye twins.

“You left, Jacob. You both did.” you replied, walking away from him first, as the memory of how he had given you that nickname begin to surface into your mind. 

You were crying, looking down at the ground, the ground you were standing on a few minutes ago before your stubborn mind caused you into this situation. Tears were blurring your vision as you cried harder at the images of falling to your death or living forever on the very branch of tree forever. You didn’t want it to be your life. You had wanted to live, but you had not wanted to live your days on the branch of this tree. But how were you getting down? How?

You wouldn’t stop crying, calling out for your governess or your mother or your father. No one had answered. You regretted it now, regretted running away from your lessons and climbing up this tree behind your house, near the forrest. What if the monsters decided to come at nightfall, knowing how vulnerable you are? 

The wind blows through the tree, causing the branches to move and you screamed louder, wrapping your red hood tighter around you while you held on to the branch. You cursed the wind, cursed the stupid weather. 

“You okay up there? I’m Evie.” a voice called out, so you looked down and shook your head, unable to speak. 

A little girl was looking up at you, she had freckles on her cheeks. She was not wearing a dress, but trousers. Trousers that only boys were supposed to wear. Her hair is tied up. She looked really beautiful, you thought. 

“Who’re you talking to?” a boy ran up next to her, with daggers on his hands as if he just came back from practicing. Is he a soldier?

The little girl, Evie, faced him and pointed up at the tree, at you. He looked up and as soon as your eyes met his, you forgot where you were for a second. Just a second, because he was laughing at you the next. You glared at him, though with your tearstained eyes, you must’ve looked more insane than scary. 

“How did you get up there?” he asked, while laughing. The sound of him laughing angers you even more and before you could even think about the consequences, you were shouting at him. Not just any shout, you literally unleashed the most piercing, most agonising high-pitched scream at him. 

He instantly got quiet, both of them covering their ears. After you realised what you’ve done, you muttered a ‘sorry’ under your breath, before remaining silent and continue glaring at the boy. 

“She’s scared to climb back down.” Evie explained, rubbing her ear, annoyed at the boy. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” Is he serious?

“I’m going to look for help. Stay here and watch over her, would you?” the little girl asked, looking at him with worry in her eyes. The little boy nodded and she looked up to face you, saying, “This is my stupid brother, Jacob. He’s going to watch over you while I get someone to help you down.”

Before you could even answer, she was already gone, leaving you with the boy named Jacob. He was staring up at you, with daggers on both of his hands as if he was ready for a fight and tapping his foot. 

“How did you end up there anyway?”

“I…” you started to say but winced a little at how dry your throat is starting to feel. Yet you forced the words out, “I wanted to go outside and I don’t want them to find me.”

“So you decided to spend the rest of your days as a squirrel on top of the tree? How did you even make it up there with that dress of yours? And that hood? You looked like the little girl from the story….what was it called? The one who’s almost being eaten by a wolf.”

“The Red Riding Hood?”

“Yeah, I hate that story.”

“You remind me of the wolf.” you commented. 

“Thanks.” he smirked. 

“It’s not a compliment.”

“It is to me. Wouldn’t want to be the granny, though I’d probably look good in a dress but still…not my style.”

“You do know what happened in the end, don’t you?”

“She killed the wolf, the end.”

You were shaking your head at disbelief. How could someone like this exist? He seemed so full of himself, smirking and everything. How did he even get those daggers? Children her age were not allowed to hold weapons like those. Sharp weapons are only reserved for old men like her father. 

“My sister’s taking too long.” he complained, dropping his daggers on the ground and walking up to the tree. Your body went on instant alert, tensing. Is he going to murder you with his bare hands? He seemed capable, you thought. 

“What are you doing? Get off of the tree! Your sister’s probably on her way with help!” you shouted at him, trying to shove logic and reason into his idiotic brain. 

“Shut up, Red.” he dismissed her, climbing effortlessly and sitting on the branch next to you. It wiggled a little bit at both of your weight and the urge to push him off was so strong at that point but you didn’t. Somehow, you trust him. 

He had his legs dangling from the branch, while you were hugging it with your body like a koala, your butt facing him. You had never felt more embarrassed at yourself. How could you let this happen?

“Let go of the branch and take my hand.” he instructed, but you couldn’t even move for fear that it would break, as if your whole body was frozen.   
“No!”

“Don’t be stubborn.Just take my hand, even if you fall, it’d be a soft landing.”

“What do you mean ‘soft’?! I’d probably die!”

“You’re so dramatic.” was the last thing he said before the branch creaked and broke.


	10. Chapter 10

Jason stared at the letter before him, feeling an odd mixture of fear and relief. Fear for what would this mean to the future, what it would mean for both of them. Relief that he is finally getting what he wanted after days of maddening worry. If anything had happened to her, or their unborn child, he’d probably have been forcefully committed into an asylum. 

His hand touched his beard, wondering if his wife would appreciate his new look. If his wife would even still look at him. The last time she looked at him, the burning hatred, it pierced through his empty soul. It sparked a realisation, at what he had done, how far he had gone. But did he feel any guilt over what he had done? Not really. Truth to be told, he had only regretted that she had found out that way. 

He brought the letter to his nose, inhaling her scent as his mind drifted to the image of her writing this letter. Was she okay? Had she suffered under their roof? Had they tried to hurt her? He hadn’t wished anything more than to know the answer to all these questions. 

It wasn’t until there is a knock on the door that he let go of the letter, dropping it on the table before looking up to see who it is. And who it revealed to be knocked the breath out of his lungs. He couldn’t believe the sight that is standing before him. It is a struggle to keep his face expressionless every time he dealt with her family as he stood up and extended his hand. 

“Son.” he greeted, ignoring his hand and taking a seat on the chair across from his. 

Jason retracted his hand, pretending as if he wasn’t about to endure the wrath of his father-in-law. What was he doing here? 

Mr.Westhouse stared at his son-in-law, wondering how they could end up in this situation. He had turned a nobody into a man, a man deemed worthy enough to be his son-in-law. Yet how did this fool end up in this situation? His thoughts reverted to his old friend, Ethan Frye, on how he would react in this situation. Somewhere inside him, he had felt the same envious feeling he harboured towards his old friend, for being able to escape the situation. 

“Mr.Westhouse, what are you doing here?” 

“Haven’t I told you that the Frye twins and anyone associated with them, are not to be touched?”

Jason lean back against his chair, ignoring the fear creeping up at him. The fear a convict would feel when he is caught. He stays silent, despite that fear. 

“And now you lost my daughter in the process…” he began, eyeing the open letter on the table, recognising his daughter’s handwriting, before threatening, “you better fix this. You lose her, you lose everything.”

“That was always the deal, wasn’t it?”

“I gave you everything, seeing as how devoted you are to my daughter. I can take it all away.” he threatened, before making his way out of the room. 

As soon as he opens the door, the familiar sound of a woman grunting greeted his ears. Jason perked up, forcing his legs to stand at the anticipation. 

Two men, holding her by her arm, drags her in. Though it was evident that their hold on her was tight, they still carefully forces her to take a seat on the chair George Westhouse was sitting on. Jason rushes up to her, dropping on his knees in front of her, caressing her cheek as if to check whether she’s real. 

You glare at him, appalled. Your father, knowing you would scream, had tighten the cloth between your lips. It had hurt, but he didn’t care. As long as it didn’t hurt the precious cargo you are carrying, nothing matters. 

“You’re here.” he exhaled, his thumb rubbing a spot under your eye as the rest of his hand rested one side of your cheek. 

And now here you are, glaring down at your husband, disgusted. How could a man nearly destroying the lives that she held dear, still look up at you with so much devotion? You hate it, you can’t stand it and how you had wished that you were back in that abandoned house, despite the living conditions. But you knew, for the good of the stupid ‘precious cargo’ you are carrying, sacrifices had to be made. Besides, after the conversation, the thought of facing the Frye twins, especially Jacob, after what you had done to his family is unbearable. 

“I know everything.” you blurted as soon as he had untied the cloth around your mouth, unable to handle the soft side of this stranger. 

“You know the facts, the things I wanted Evie to know. But you didn’t know the reason.” he explained, getting up from his spot, moving to the seat next to me instead of untying me like what a normal husband would do. 

“Then tell me.” you urged, trying to keep your patience. 

“Ever since I met you, I’ve always wanted you to myself. I do not share, especially not you.” he explained, tracing his index finger on your lips. “Yet I know ever since before we married, before I was tortured by your father, that a part of you would always belong to that Jacob Frye.”

You move your head, letting his finger drop, as if the sound of Jacob’s name is a trigger that brings you back to your sanity. 

“My main objective from creating this empire with you, had always been to get rid of the Frye twins. As long as they’re alive and happy, a part of you will never be mine.” he explained. 

“You went behind my father. The deal you’ve made, how dare you!”

“I may have worshipped your father, I may have feared him even,” he began, his knees touching the floor as he kneeled in front of you with his hands encircling your waist. “but all that is secondary to you.” he finished, burying his head on your lower abdomen, placing his lips on it as you try your best not to flinch under his touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short hiatus. :)


	11. Chapter 11

“She’s gone.” Jacob announced, walking inside the room that Evie and Henry shared. 

Evie didn’t bother looking up, knowing full well how her brother felt at the bitch’s disappearance. She focused, instead, on tending to Henry’s wounds, who wouldn’t stop wincing, then reassuring her how fine he’s feeling. If he was fine, she thought, he wouldn’t be wincing at every touch of ointment she rubs on him. 

“What should we do?” Jacob asked, pacing around the room like a worried husband. Something he rarely does. 

“Nothing.” Evie replied, ignoring her brother’s annoying footsteps against the old wooden floors. They would have to move for a time, she thought, somewhere far safer than London, but not too far away. 

Jacob, as soon as he hears Evie’s answer, stopped pacing and clenched his fist. How could his sister not care about Matilda? After all that we’ve been through, he thought, and just because of one mistake, she forgets our childhood friend entirely. But that’s the thing about Evie, once she cares about someone, she fearlessly protects that person. And to hurt Henry like that, it had probably destroyed whatever forgiveness left in her. 

“I have to do something.” he proclaimed, to which she turned to him, as if daring for him to suggest something as pathetic as going after a woman who not just hurt your family, but doesn’t even want you back. Unfortunately, Jacob ignored his sister for now, telling her, “If you’re not planning to do anything, I will. I need to do something, I can’t just sit around here.”

“What are you going to do? She willingly went back to her husband.”

“I think your sister’s right. It’s best if we all lay low for awhile.” Henry suggested, clutching his stomach, failing to hide his pain as he try his best to get up, his back leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

Jacob, not knowing what to do, walked out of the room and disappeared. 

You clutched your lower abdomen as if you were strangling a monster inside you. Tears blurred your vision as you slide down onto the ground against your back. You were gripping it as if it was painful. You didn’t want it anymore, you had never wanted it. It was more of an accident than something planned. A regrettable accident. 

As you heard the lock click behind you, you knew no one could stop you now. It’d be too late for them to do so. 

You ran towards one of your drawers next to your bed, fishing for the small dagger your father had gifted you. How poetic it would’ve been, to have his legacy end by the weapon he gifted. 

You held it against the light, the light shining from the window. You searched for something in you, anything, but as expected, you’ve found nothing. You wiped off the tears with the back of your hand, before crouching next to the bed, raising the blade up high, your eyes on the life you were about to take away. A life you both did not deserve. 

You lowered your hand halfway, before something stopped you. Not something, someone. You looked up to find Jacob. 

Your eyes drifted to the wrists he was gripping as if his life depended on it. You stared at him, both with shock and remorse. Shock at his presence. Remorse towards the failure of completing this task. You’ve taken so much lives over the years, you and Jason both. So what was so different about taking this one?  
“What were you doing?” Jacob demanded, his eyes boring into yours, searching for that little girl he and his sister found on top of that tree. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” you gritted your teeth, trying to fight to urge to dive the dagger into him. 

“Now why would I do that?!” 

You were about to reply, when the two guards kicked the door open. Jacob, like a trained killer that he is, was not easily distracted, as he tighten your grip and wrenched the dagger away from you with his other hand. 

And before you could comprehend what was happening, Jacob dragged you up with one hand, stopping the movements of the guards by pressing the blade over your throat while his other hand circled around your abdomen, as if he was protecting the life inside. You pressed your throat against the sharp blade, drawing blood, feeling the relief you were itching to feel these past few months. 

“You do that, and I’ll make sure you’ll never get what you want.” he threatened under his breath, each words like knives on your skin. You immediately stopped. 

Jacob faced the guards, who stood there frozen, leaving the door open ajar as their master walked in. Jason’s face promised murder at the sight, but he tried to stay calm and calculative like he usually is in these situations. But unlike most situations you and him had been in, in the past, the captor never had the real skill to actually cause harm. This one was different. This one is an Assassin. 

“Let her go.” Jason commanded but instead of replying, Jacob said, “What have you done to her?”

“I’ve done nothing!” Jason replied, getting angrier. 

“Did you know what she was doing when I found her?”

It was then that Jason realised the tiny detail he missed as soon as he walked in. The weapon Jacob was holding against her neck. It was his wife’s most treasured weapon, a weapon gifted by her father for their wedding. A dagger to protect herself with, should she come across any danger. She had used it countless of times. 

Jason’s eyes drifted to his wife, who looked at him blankly, as if she didn’t care what they were both going to do. What had happened between these two?


End file.
